


One Does Ones Best to Hide the Damage

by DeanWinchesterIsTrans



Category: Doctor Who
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-27
Updated: 2017-06-27
Packaged: 2018-11-19 13:25:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11314320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeanWinchesterIsTrans/pseuds/DeanWinchesterIsTrans
Summary: River just wants a relatively normal afternoon, but a stranger has some things she has to say.Set before the Husbands of River Song, but after Death in Heaven.





	One Does Ones Best to Hide the Damage

The polite term for the shop would be 'cafe'. The correct term would be more similar to 'bar of smugglers and criminals, thinly disguised as a cafe, that has somehow miraculously evaded law enforcement for decades'.

All in all, River Song figured it was a decent place to spend the afternoon. She didn't have any special plans, but her general rule of 'if something looks like trouble, run towards it as fast as possible, and hope for the best' should serve her well in this place.

She sat at a small table with two chairs, taking the one furthest from the door, angled so she could see the whole of the room without much of an issue. The general idea was to be able to see and identify any approaching threat, but considering how the term 'threat' could be applied to nearly any life form in this fine establishment, her position was about as comforting as being told a teddy bear would protect you from the scary monsters in the dark. Which is to say, quite a lot depending the situation.

Someone pushed the door open, rattling and clanging noisily. All the shops patrons suddenly fell silent and, like River, looked up, examined the newcomer, and immediately pretended to go back to whatever they were doing, the cafe flooded with sound once more. Of course, none of them were actually minding their own business, obviously all still keeping an eye on the stranger, but it's the thought that counts, right?

The person of the not-so-subtle entrance appeared to be a woman with piercing blue eyes, and frizzy brown hair all done up like she had just walked in from a date with Benjamin Franklin and a kite. Her dress was a shock of purple color, accented by her 'try me' smile, containing equal measures bared teeth and amusement.

She didn't appear to have any weapons on her, but River had been around long enough to know that meant nothing.

River pulled out her diary and flipped to a random page in the middle. Before she could read more than one line down the page, she heard someone walk up to her table and stand resolutely in front of her. She could nearly feel the weight of everyone's attention on her.

River took a deep breath. Something about this situation scared her, and she did not like that one bit. "Yes...?" River drawled, raising one eyebrow, looking up at the person before her: the mystery woman. Of course, who else? River casually put out a disinterested appearance, mind racing.

The lady's smile softened, all her dangerous energy focused everywhere else but at River. Huh. "Is this seat taken?" she asked, gesturing at the chair opposite River.

River waved dismissively and replied, "No. Go ahead."

The woman's eyes flicked all around the room, as if deciding which person would be the most fun to take apart first, and how. Her dangerous, sharp smile had returned, and she stared down each and every life form in the bar, seeming to send them all a message: mind your own damn business, or else.

After she seemed satisfied that the customers would, in fact, mind their own damn business, she turned back to River. "Are you River Song?" she asked, leaning across the table conspiratorially.

River leveled her gaze across the table. "Who's asking?" she replied cooly. A cliched line, she knew, and a question with a question, but still important.

The woman smiled knowingly. "So, Doctor Song," she started, saying the word Doctor like it contained the secrets of Time itself, like it was the very first word of a treasured, time-worn, precious, priceless story, like it was the most important word in the universe, and the saddest one too.

"--If this is about him, then you might as well know you will never get to him through me," River cut her off furiously. She started to gather her things, going to stand up and leave the cafe, but stopping as the other woman reached across the table and met her eyes, gripping her hand tightly.

"You love him," the woman stated, neither asking nor telling.

River tipped her chin up. "Yes, what of it?"

The woman gave that sad, knowing smile again. "You need to know that he loves you. That idiot with his box loves you with both his hearts and everything he's got. He loves you."

River stared at her. "How do I know you're not lying?"

"Why would I lie?" the woman asked, sounding sincerely curious.

"People usually do," River said bitterly.

The woman tried to smile again, but it reached her eyes even less than all her earlier ones. "That is true, that is true," she agreed, "but I promise I'm not lying. He loves you, cross my hearts."

"I'm not saying that I believe you," River began, "but how do you know?"

The woman sighed. "When he loves something, he runs from it, because he never wants it to end. And if he stays, he must love that person more than anything. As legend has it, he stays with you. For a long, long time. Also... he doesn't tell his name to just anyone, you know."

"He hasn't told me his name," River told her.

"Yet."

River hummed. "How do you know him, anyways?"

"I'm an old friend of his," the woman replied evasively.

"He has lots of old friends."

The woman drummed her fingers on the table thoughtfully, probably wondering how much she could, or should, say. "I am probably the oldest friend he has," she admitted. At River's unimpressed look she sighed and continued, "Since Gallifrey."

River narrowed her eyes, "But just who are you exactly, though?"

"I'm Missy, aka the Master aka--" she began.

"You love him too," River stated, neither asking nor telling.

Missy replied, with steel in her eyes, "Yes, yes I do. I love him, I always have, and I suspect I always will."

River looked down. "Does he love you back?" she asked quietly.

Missy laughed, "Him? Loving me? No, don't be ridiculous. He doesn't love me and he never will."

River hummed, and Missy sighed, standing up from her chair. "It was lovely meeting you, River, but I really must be going. Just remember: he loves you."

Before Missy walked away, River asked one more question, "Why?"

Her question could've meant several different things, and maybe she meant them all, but Missy only replied with, "Because he might never think to tell you himself," and then she was gone, leaving River alone once more at her table for two.

**Author's Note:**

> I chose to write w Missy instead of any other version of the Master bc she might be more likely to try to (haha) say something nice, but I mean this as every version of the Master has always been in love with the Doctor.


End file.
